The Fine Line Of Love
by JonathonFisk
Summary: After the ordeal of her birthday, Raven finds herself contemplating the relationship she has with Robin. Oneshot. 1st story, but feel free to be critical.


Raven was never one to try and be in the spotlight. She always tried to work behind the scenes, in the shadows or what ever else you want to call it. One of the reasons she didn't like to be scrutinized is that she had secrets, plenty of them, and she wanted to keep those secrets just that, secret. That and the fact that her secrets weren't as simple as "I have a crush on so-and-so" or "I took the last piece of pizza from the fridge." These secrets were more on the scale of "My father is an interdimensional demon bent on eradicating all life from the universe."

But all in all she had to appreciate the compassion and effort they all put into the party. Cyborg's 8 layered cake had practically immobilized her. Starfire didn't make Raven wear the meat crown most of them time. Beast Boy was downright tolerable.

A loud snoring jarred her from her thoughts. _Well, almost tolerable._ She corrected.

And Robin had tentatively joined in the celebrations. She could tell that he wasn't entirely sure how do react to her willingness to join in the celebrations. She was even surprised by her actions. But regardless of being caught off guard he was empathetic and affectionate.

She paused slightly, realizing what she had just thought. I wasn't the fact she was uncomfortable that she just said that Robin had affection for her that struck her as odd. It was the fact that she wasn't uncomfortable. She was perfectly contented in the fact that he had affection for her. She was even contented with the fact that she had a form of affection for him. Perhaps it was that the Titans were like a surrogate family to her.

No. While they were a family, she couldn't say that she felt the same feelings for Starfire or Beast Boy or even Cyborg. Maybe-

"What are you thinking so intently about?" sounded a familiar voice. Startled, Raven found herself sitting on a stool next to the kitchen counter as her team leader, Robin, washing dishes with a mild smile on his face.

"Oh, nothing." She said, ignoring the discerning look and going on to say "Here, let me help you with those."

"Huh-uh," He said shaking his head a little "It's your birthday you don't have to do anything." Despite only being able to see the back of his head, she could tell that he had a silly grin plastered on his face.

The ends of her lips tugged upward slightly as she moved towards the sink. She was so glad their paths had crossed so long ago. "One, it's not my birthday anymore" She said pointing to the bright red '2:14' above the oven.

"Two," She said picking up a plate covered in frosting and putting it under the faucet. "You guys went through all the trouble of making a party for me despite my protests."

A silence hung in the air pierced only by the sloshing of water and the clatter of ceramic plates.

"And third?" Robin probed.

Damn. She hoped he hadn't noticed that. "Third," She intently watched her hands wash the dishes, not daring to look Robin in the eyes, well, mask. "After what happened today, I guess I owe you."

She saw his hand stop dead in their tracks as they reached for another plate. "You don't owe me anything, Raven." He said, his tone gentle but serious. "If our positions were reversed, you would have done the same thing."

"Regardless," She said, forcing herself to face him. Her eyes locked with the white triangles of his mask. "Thanks." He smiled at her and she tried her best to return it without seeming sarcastic.

The silence returned as they went back to their work.

"So, what were you _really _thinking about?" He said his grin almost audible.

She sighed. Sometimes he was too nosy for his own good. "The party." She said simply, putting the last dish in the drying rack. That wasn't entirely a lie.

It was a blur to her now. She could only remember bits and pieces, less then images, more then feelings. Random images of cake and smiles and presents swarmed her thoughts. Cyborg's laughter as Star chased BB with the 'throknar', her embarrassment as her friends sung that annoying birthday song to her, Cyborg disappearing to his room to recharge, Star passing out from a massive sugar crash, Beast Boy slumping over the couch to fall asleep watching MTV's Cribs, bodies of stone littering the burnt and broken-. No. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind. No need to dwell in the bad.

"You really are tired." Robin said, bringing her back to reality.

"How do you mean?" She inquired.

He let a half-laugh out from his nose. "I mean" He said snatching the dishrag she had drying her hands with absentmindedly. "You aren't nearly as perceptive as you usually are. I've been waiting for you to give me that washcloth for nearly fifteen minutes now."

She gave him a snide look and said slowly, "Fifteen minutes?"

He stopped drying his hands and looked up at her face. The corner of his mouth stretched slightly as he said "Fine, more like fifteen seconds."

She grinned triumphantly and lazily waltzed over to their giant half-circle couch. She let her knees buckle as she fell onto the couch next to sprawled form of Beast Boy. He let out a grunt as she hit the cushions and rolled to face the backrest of the couch. She wasn't really sure what she was doing this late at night. A part of herself was telling her to go back to her room and sleep in her own bed. Yet something about the serene and silent sleep of her friends was more comforting then any bed.

Suddenly the giant screen in front of her flared to life to show the music video of some punk band screaming their hearts out. The volume quickly descended as signified by little green bars disappearing off the screen. She may have been sleepy but she was still perceptive enough to realize that Robin was holding the remote. He made his way over to the couch and sat down gently as not to disturb Beast Boy. He began flipping though the channels trying to find one worth while.

Suddenly she realized something. "Say," She said quietly "Why aren't you tired?" He stopped pressing the remote for a moment as an advertiser proclaimed the admiration for a juicer.

"Back when I worked with my-"He searched for the right word "mentor, we did most of our work at night."

She prodded further despite her dulled common sense. "Why did you leave?"

"He could be a little overbearing sometimes."

He finally stopped channel surfing and settled on an old episode of The Twilight Zone. "Not this show." Raven said with disgust. "Why not?" Robin replied in such a tone as if she had said she didn't like chocolate. "It's predictable, it has a loosely thrown together plot, and the acting is terrible." She said as her eyes struggled to stay open. "But, that's why you watch old Twilight Zones. They're so bad, they're funny." He said. "Whatever. I just hope it doesn't give me messed up dreams." She said and closed her eyes, rested her head on the back of the couch and listened to the strangely comforting voice of Rod Sterling painting a portrait of Robert Wilson and his strange flight.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Black. Darkness. Nothing.

Raven blinked a few times to find out where she was. She slowly began to see the glint of moonlight reflecting off the water and the glass. She was still in the same place yet it still felt different. Oh, she realized as she sat up, she was lying down. The one thing she did not understand is where she got the blanket from. She knew that it was one of the tower's blankets, as evidenced by the huge T on it, but she didn't know how it got to her. Suddenly it dawned on her. Robin, she thought affectionately.

She could practically see the sickeningly sweet events folding out. Her head would fall on to his shoulder as she slept. He would set her head on the couch gently. He would cover her in a blanket and she would relax as the blanket eclipsed her figure. How terribly cliché. But still, she thought as a grin grew on her face, it was a sweet gesture.

_Well,_ she thought as she wearily stood up, _I should go sleep in my own room. I have a mystique to maintain._ She stumbled to her room in a half sleep, nearly tripping over random objects multiple times. Her mind and body were far too weary to make her put on her pajamas, so she simply wriggled under the covers and immediately closed her eyes.

Her mind wandered as she drifted into dreamland. She thought of Robin and her affection for him. It was one of the few enigmas she couldn't figure out. Suddenly it dawned on her like sunlight breaking over the horizon. It wasn't the love for a friend, a teammate, or even a brother. It was the love for a father. That's why she couldn't figure it out before. She had no love for her real father, but Robin was like her surrogate father, taking her in when no one else would, protecting her from any evil, no matter the odds, caring for her when she needed it and leaving her alone when she didn't. It was a heartwarming sentiment, but it did not last. She began to worry about her real father. What would happen if he does come to Earth?

Her last thoughts before she drifted off to sleep were; _I just have to make sure he doesn't._

That night she dreamt that she and Robin were on a plane and Robin was trying to convince her that Trigon was on the wing wreaking it. _Stupid Twilight Zone._


End file.
